Clocks Tick but Some Get Broken
by OrangeZest100
Summary: Hogwarts is in danger from one of their own.  But who could it possibly be...   SerialKiller/Stalker fic.  A lot of character death.
1. Chapter 1: Hermione

Chapter One

Hermione

She took a deep breath of the cool castle air. It was no substitute for clean fresh air but it was better than the heated air of the Gryffindor common room. Harry and Ron had been arguing about Quidditch. Normally it wouldn't be a big deal but she had already heard them talking about it for a month at Grimmauld Place. She just didn't want to hear it anymore. So she had gone out into the hall for a walk. Ginny had offered to come with her but she wanted to be alone, she thought better that way. She rounded a corner into a hallway unoccupied by anyone, even portraits. She heard a scuffling sound behind her and turned, mouth drawing down slightly upon realizing the person's identity. "What do you want," asked Hermione. The person didn't answer her. "I don't want to deal with it right now, okay?" The person came closer to her, really close, centimeters from her. A hand reached out and brushed a small piece of hair from her face. The fingertip trailed down her face slowly. Hermione's breathe caught. She had no business finding this attractive, she really didn't, but she just couldn't seem to help herself. She leaned closer and breathed shakily on the person's face. She didn't even see it coming. The knife pierced her jugular, causing some arterial spray. Her eyes opened in shock and she gurgled in a breath. She fell onto the stone floor and perpetrator stood and watched the last few seconds of her life. When Hermione Granger had stopped breathing, the person knelt down beside her for a moment before hurrying off.

Harry and Ron walked down to breakfast the next morning, sitting near Neville, Dean, and Seamus, quickly filling their plates, Ron more quickly than Harry. They all smiled briefly at each other as they ate. "Hey," asked Seamus, "where's Hermione?"

"What are you talking about," said Harry. "She came down early didn't she?" Dean shook his head.

"I haven't seen her." Ron swallowed.

"She probably went to the library for some extra studying guys, I'm sure she's fine," he said, shoving more bacon and eggs in his mouth. Dean shook his head again and repeated his statement again.

"I haven't seen her." They stayed silent then, eating. Harry was getting this nasty nagging feeling in his stomach. He poked his eggs with his fork, lost in thought. He wished he had the Marauder's Map with him. He could find her then. Most of the hall that was at least partially awake looked away from their food as Mr. Filch rushed into the room, going directly to the high table. He whispered something to Professor Dumbledore. A crease appeared on the elderly man's forehead and he beckoned all of the teachers with a gesture. They left the hall en masse, the students staring after them in puzzlement. Even Ron had looked up from his breakfast. All of the students looked at each other in puzzlement, even Slytherins and Gryffindors locking eyes in question. The teachers were gone for several minutes until Snape returned to the entrance way.

"Stay in your seats," he drawled, closing the Great Hall doors. Harry and Ron stared at each other.

"Something happened, something big," said Harry, many nearby students nodding in agreement. They were there for several more minutes, the time wearing on and on, and at some point as Ron helped himself to even more food, Harry realized that they should all be in their first class. Glancing around, he discovered that many other students were starting to realize the same thing. McGonagall entered the hall, walking up to Harry and Ron.

"You two need to come with me." Thoroughly confused, they followed her out of the hall to the whispers of their fellow students. They followed her up the stairs to an empty classroom, finding Dumbledore, Umbridge, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout all huddling around a desk, a ministry official hovering by their sides. "I brought them Professor Dumbledore," said McGonagall, wringing her hands together. Dumbledore turned toward them, looking at them sadly.

"What's happened Professor," asked Harry, scared for the first time since the strange morning had begun.

"You two might want to sit down…"

"Tell us sir." Dumbledore looked at the two Gryffindors sadly.

"I have some horrible news boys. I am afraid that Miss Granger has been murdered." Harry's vision blackened briefly before he started hyperventilating. Ron had fallen onto his knees beside him and sobs could be heard escaping his lips. Dumbledore looked at them sadly, and Harry noticed that there were tears in the man's eyes as well. Even Snape looked sad. "I know this difficult for you boys but…can you tell us if anything is missing from her personal affects? It could help us immensely in finding the offender." Harry and Ron nodded. Harry, with difficulty, slowed his breathing as Ron got up awkwardly. They approached the table and Harry almost started breathing heavily again as he noticed the blood on Hermione's shirt, Hermione's blood. Ron was doing no better, only standing upright by propping himself up with his hands on the table. One hand painfully gripping the table edge, Harry used the other to shift through the bags of evidence. He guessed that the bags were an easy way to store evidence until it could be taken to the Ministry.

"Her necklace," choked Ron, tears still flowing down his face. Harry looked at him as did everyone else in the room. "Remember Harry, that necklace we got her last year with the book on it? She wore it every day; she wore it yesterday. It's not here." Harry looked at the table again and nodded.

"It's not." The ministry official that Harry just realized was an auror, grabbed the bags and headed out the door, presumably to go apparate out of the grounds. Ron truly collapsed then, curling into a ball on the ground. Harry sat heavily beside him trying not to breathe to hard and hurt himself. The teachers looked on them in pity. Everyone left except McGonagall.

"Boys, we'll be holding a service for her this afternoon before dinner. Would either of you like to say something?" Ron didn't even move so Harry swallowed.

"I-I don't think we can Professor." She nodded slowly before exiting the room, leaving them to their grief. Ron sobbed quietly on the ground as Harry tried not to breathe fast enough to pass out, not entirely succeeding as his vision would blacken around the edges. They heard the students moving on the staircase outside but they didn't even try to move. One of the doors burst open and Harry saw Dean, Seamus, and Neville looking at them. Harry's already loud, quick breathing hastened minutely. Their friends didn't talk, Neville simple helped Harry to his feet, letting Harry's arm drape across his shoulders as Dean and Seamus picked up Ron, who was in such a state of shock he couldn't move. They slowly made their way to Gryffindor tower, students parting for them as they passed, giving all of them looks of sorrow and understanding.

They entered the common room, which was silent except for the sniffling and sobs of fellow students. Ginny ran up to them, hugging Ron hard before briefly hugging Harry. Her eyes were puffy and red and Harry could see the twins over her shoulder. They looked horrible as well but appeared as if they had been trying to take care of Ginny as much as possible. Harry just continued to hyper ventilate as his friends led him upstairs. Dean and Seamus dumped Ron on his bed and Neville let Harry down slowly. Harry scooted onto his back, staring at the ceiling as the others left. As he was swallowed into darkness he wondered why anyone would steal Hermione's necklace of all things.

The Slytherin common room was also in a state of distress. There were less open tears but sniffles could be heard and frowns could be seen. They were all gathered in the common room and Snape was standing with them. "We have lost a student," he said simply, several of the students nodded. Pansy sniffed heavily and Theo gave her a sad glance. "The staff and the ministry will be doing their best to find the offender." His gaze swept over the gathered students. "I want all of you to be careful. It would not do anyone any good to have another victim." His gaze swept over the crowd again but paused on someone, eyes narrowing slightly. "Mr. Malfoy," said Snape sternly and everyone looked to see Draco examining his nails. "You may not have been the biggest fan of Miss Granger but I expect you to have respect for her and her manner of death." Malfoy simply hm'd and Snape frowned. "We will speak later, privately." He looked again at the gathered students and noticed how many of them were now shooting glares at Malfoy, who seemed completely oblivious. "There will be a service this afternoon. I expect all of you to attend, dismissed." The students dispersed. Snape approached Malfoy, grabbed him by the arm and dragged the boy to his office. Only after the door was locked did he speak. "Are you insane?"

"Not that I know of," said Malfoy, still not making eye contact.

"Just because the Dark Lord is staying at your house does not mean that you can completely disregard this. A person has _died_ Draco." Malfoy looked at Snape then.

"I am well aware Professor. However, there is little I can do at the moment about it." The blonde boy walked out of the room, leaving a confused Snape behind him.

Harry thought that the service was okay. They couldn't get Ron to move or respond so he stayed in the tower. Harry himself had to have a tonic so that he didn't pass out in the middle of the service, so he spent most of it in a haze. Classes started the next day and he and Ron spent most of it in a haze, unable to truly participate. Even the Slytherins left them alone, for which Harry was grateful. Eventually, Ron came out of his stupor though he became explosive emotionally for a while. Nothing happened for an entire month.


	2. Chapter 2: October, or the Month of Fear

Chapter Two

October, or the Month of Fear

It was barely into October. Harry and Ron were finally starting to get back to some sense of familiarity, there entire days no longer consumed with thoughts of their lost friend. The school had slowly recovered as well, many of the Gryffindors uniting under their hate of Umbridge. She did not even let them practice spells! If anyone was an anti-Hermione, it was that woman. Things were normal though, with class, Quidditch, and inter-House rivalry. Then everything went to shit again.

Colin Creevey was walking back up from the dungeons were he had been developing his photos. He knew that there was a spell to take care of such a task but he did not have mastery of it yet. So, he developed all of his photos my hand. He could not develop the one's currently in his camera, partially because he still had film left and partially because his other photos were not done developing. So Colin was heading back up to Gryffindor tower to work on some of his homework before going to bed. Colin turned sharply as he heard a clang from behind him and he turned fast enough to see one of the suits of armor still shaking. "Who's there," he called, using his best Gryffindor voice. Silence was his answer. Shrugging, he continued on, despite the feeling that he was being watched. No one was watching him, he convinced himself. He would be perfectly fine. Someone was watching him of course, but he wouldn't know it. After the mistake with the armor, the person didn't make another mistake, stalking the boy quietly. The fourth year did not even seem to notice as his follower got within feet of him. The person pulled an object out of their sleeve and it glinted in the dim moonlight. Bringing its hand up, the person brought the knife into the side of Colin's neck, twisting viciously. The boy fell quickly. The offender grabbed the boy's camera as the boy frantically pressed at his neck, attempting to keep all of his blood inside. A small, disdainful humph was all the boy heard as he died on the stairs.

Unfortunately, Dennis, Colin's second year brother, was the one to find his body. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout had to drag the poor boy away. The death had occurred right on the main stairs and aurors had to direct student traffic away from the sight, causing many students to be late for class. Having already used back routes to go to class, Harry and Ron were unaware of the event until they arrived outside of Potions class. All of the fifth years were talking about it. "Colin, really," asked Lavender.

"Yeah," said Seamus, "right on the staircase. Poor little kid didn't deserve getting knifed in the throat." Harry stayed silent, his throat swelling up at the thought of another death. Cedric, Hermione, and Colin…Harry had already experienced enough death for a life time. He did not wish to experience any more. Ron's jaw clenched but otherwise there was no direct indication that he even knew of the event. Snape simply stared at them all for several seconds as they took their seats.

"As I am sure all of you are aware, Mister Colin Creevey was murdered today. However, class must go on and I hope that your grief will not greatly affect your school work throughout the day." Then he started class. Harry spent the rest of the day worried; two deaths in the course of a month? He was very worried, unsure of what this boded about the future. Harry even noticed that Snape was stopping some of his insults short. Next was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Umbridge. She was wearing her best toad smile, sipping tea as the students filed in.

"It has come to my attention," she started as everyone sat down, "that many of you question why we are not practicing spells. It is because, dear children, you have nothing to fear and nothing you would need to fight off with such spells."

"That's a lie." Today, Harry could not take any more of the crap, so he spoke up.

"Excuse me my dear," she asked brightly and Harry had to resist the urge to punch her in the face. People were _dying_.

"Someone in school is killing students and Voldemort is out there, _murdering_ people."

"He Who Must Not Be Named has not come back dear. You made the whole thing up." Harry was truly enraged now, by her ignorance and stupidity.

"He _has_ returned and he's killing people. We need to be able to protect ourselves."

"Detention," she cried, "tonight, my office, at eight." She continued lecturing and Harry kept quiet, his nails digging into his palms. He sighed when she dismissed them, picking up his bags and leaving with Ron at his side.

"Harry," someone yelled and Harry turned. Cho was jogging to catch up with his, her bag almost falling off of her shoulder. Ron whispered something about seeing Harry later but he was already barely paying attention. "I'm glad I caught up with you. I just heard that Umbridge gave you detention?"

"Uh, yeah, she said I made up the story of Voldemort coming back." Cho flinched at the name but nodded.

"She's thick, but um, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." She looked at her feet and Harry couldn't ponder what was going on. "Would you, maybe, want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? I mean, I know it's really bad timing and all, with Collin this morning, and it might be canceled but…"

"Sure, I'll go with you." They both beamed before standing awkwardly for a moment. "I'll see you later okay?"

"Okay," said Cho breathlessly as Harry left. Harry smiled to himself. He finally had a date with Cho and he had a desire to run to the tower to tell Ron and Hermione. Harry's good mood disappeared when he realized that he could not tell Hermione; she wasn't there to tell her. He got back to the tower and slouched in an armchair next to Ron.

"So," he questioned.

"We're going to Hogsmeade together this weekend."

"Then why do you look so glum?"

"I couldn't wait to tell Hermione." They were both quiet then, lost in thought about their lost friend. Harry sighed. "We better get started on this homework." Ron nodded as they dug into their bags. After Hermione passed Harry and Ron had started studying regularly and got started on their homework early. Their grades drastically approved. Harry was even passing Potions. They had an unspoken agreement that it was in honor of Hermione. Harry liked to believe that she was proud of them for it. Ron had already suggested trying to get S.P.E.W. out of its three, now two, person membership. They felt at the moment that it was too much work. Harry didn't mention it but he knew that sometimes Ron went to the library and just sat between the bookshelves, remembering her. Harry himself owned one of her scarves and he would simply take it out from time to time and stare at the ceiling, remembering her advice and her bone crushing hugs. Harry also knew that her murder had hit Ron the hardest. Hogsmeade didn't come fast enough.

Harry had decided that the day had been one of the weirdest that he had ever had when he walked into Umbridge's office. The entire thing was pink and the wall be covered in cat plates. Harry then decided that the day got weirder. Umbridge was already sitting, sipping tea as Harry took his seat. "Now my dear, you are going to do lines." Harry noticed the parchment on his small table. He started to reach into his bag for his quill when Umbridge stopped him. "No dear, you are going to use one of mine." She handed him the quill and asked him to begin.

"But I don't have any ink Professor."

"You won't need any dear." A little confused, Harry began his lines, constantly writing 'I must not tell lies'. It turned out he didn't need ink because the quill wrote in Harry's own blood, but Harry gritted his teeth and continued writing, quite glad that Hogsmeade was only days away. Cho met him in Great Hall for breakfast and they left somewhat awkwardly. Ron had 'decided' that he was going to go with Dean and Seamus, though Harry knew that his best friend was just trying to give him some privacy. Cho grabbed his hand and Harry looked at her.

"Come on, I know a place we can go." She took off down the street. Hiding a smile, Harry followed her. She stopped in front of a place that Harry had never entered before. It was called Madame Puddifoot's. Harry noticed that the place seemed to be full of glitter and pink. He flinched slightly and she looked at him. "What?"

"The pink reminds me of Umbridge." Cho's eyes widened slightly in understanding and she nodded.

"We can just go to the three broomsticks." They headed back and entered the crowded pub. Cho snatched seats as Harry got them butterbeers, weaving his way through the thick crowd that always seemed present. He sat down across from her, passing her a butterbeer. She smiled at him. Harry took off his gloves, setting him on the table, taking a sip of his drink. Cho frowned. "What happened to your hand?" Harry tried to move it under the table quickly but Cho caught his hand with her seeker reflexes and pulled the limb towards her. "Harry what happened?" Harry yanked his hand back, hiding it under the table as he stared into his butterbeer.

"I don't want to talk about it." He heard Cho sniffled and Harry looked up to find that she was crying. Digging into his pocket quickly, Harry handed her a handkerchief. "I just…"

"I'm just so worried! Two people are dead, and Cedric's gone, and now you're injured…"

"Cho, I'm just a little uncomfortable about it. It's not that I don't want to tell you, I'm just self-conscious."

"Really," she sniffled.

"Yeah," he muttered and she looked at him expectantly. Harry sighed. "It's from detention with Umbridge."

"What does it say?"

"I must not tell lies." She tried to hand him back his handkerchief but he insisted she keep it. The rest of the day passed comfortably. They were walking through the streets when rain started to fall. They quickly hid underneath a roof, as did many others in the street. Cho ended up pressed against Harry. She batted her eyelashes at him and he swallowed. Cho leant in, slowly, and kissed him. It was the perfect first kiss, tender and passionate, with a combination of too much lip pressing and tongue, with moments of not enough tongue and uncertainty. They parted, brushing heavily. The rest of their date passed uneventfully. Cho left at dinner, insisting that she wasn't hungry and that she had some studying to do in the library. Harry smiled at her as she walked off.

The noise from the Great Hall echoed throughout the hallways, even down towards the library. Cho walked slowly, enjoying her good mood from the day. A surprisingly low number of people noticed when someone slipped out of the crowd and followed her. Those that did notice simply assumed that their fellow student was also going to the library. Cho was trying to focus on the books she needed to get but Harry's small smile kept sneaking into her mind, thoroughly distracting her. Then she would have to start her list again. The noise from the Great Hall masked her follower's passage and even if she had been aware, she would have assumed the same as the others. Cho heard her name and turned only to feel a sharp pain in her chest as she turned. She looked down at the knife firmly grasped in the person's hand. She looked up, staring at the face before her. "You," Cho whispered.

"Me."


	3. Chapter 3: Panic

Chapter 3

Panic

One of the first people who left the hall found her. The young Hufflepuff girl ran back in tears, going directly to Dumbledore at the high table. Naturally, the entire student body grew deadly silent, waiting to hear the girl's story. They had to wait several minutes for the girl to be able to speak clearly. "Miss Cho Chang's dead," she managed to say before devolving into wails. Students turned to stare at Harry, knowing perfectly well that he had just been on a date with her that very day. As for Harry, his vision had blackened slightly and he couldn't breathe. He was fairly certain that he was going to faint. Ron smacked him on the back, forcing air into his lungs. Shaking badly, Harry turned back towards his food, staring at it, its meaning lost. Many of the teachers were rushing off, a few staying to keep track of the students. They were not allowed to leave the Great Hall again. Harry found himself unable to breathe again, and this time, he did faint.

Dumbledore looked sadly down at the Ravenclaw girl, waiting for the Ministry officials to arrive for the third time. This had never happened. He doubted that it had ever happened in the history of the school, all the way back to the age of the founders. Snape came up beside him with Sprout and Flitwick waiting behind. McGonagall was waiting to escort the Aurors. Dumbledore sighed again. "She was too young Severus."

"They were all too young." Albus heard Snape shift behind him. "This one was different than the others."

"How so," asked the Headmaster, genuinely curious.

"The others were stabbed from behind in the neck. She was stabbed in the chest from the front. She must have seen her attackers face before she died." Snape knelt carefully beside the body. "Missed the heart," he muttered.

"What," asked McGonagall, standing with the Aurors. Snape turned, embarrassed, as did the others.

"Seriously," said an Auror, "your observations are good, keep going."

"The blade missed the heart," said Severus, turning back towards the body. "So she died slower than the others did." He shifted slightly to shift perspective. "This line of blood here," he pointed, following it with his finger. "It's not with the rest. She was probably trying to write a name. That's why her wrist is slit."

"Excellent deduction," said the Auror, smiling slightly. "You do quite well Professor Snape. No offense, but we're going to work now, so you might want to move." Snape huffed but left with Dumbledore and the other teachers for the Headmaster's office. Albus whispered the candy of the time and they stepped on the staircase, entering the office, Falkes cooing slightly.

"What are we going to do Albus," said McGonagall, looking really worried.

"I don't know Minerva, I do not know. The last time someone died during the middle of the term was the first time the Chamber of Secrets was opened and poor Myrtle died." They were all silent for quite some time when there was a knock upon the door. "Come in." The Auror and Umbridge entered. "What are you doing here Dolores, if I may ask?"

"As a Ministry official I feel that it is my duty to be here." She smiled in her sickeningly sweet manner and the Auror ignored her.

"The others are taking her remains and the evidence to Ministry. We don't know if anything was taken this time."

"I have heard that she was on a date with Mr. Potter today," stated Umbridge. The room grew silent, everyone pondering the thought. A shot of blue flew through the door, startling several people. It stopped in the middle of the room, the blue ball shifting into the shape of a platypus, which swum in a circle for a moment before speaking in the voice of Madame Pomfrey.

"Headmaster, the Potter boy has fainted. A few of his Gryffindor friends and I are taking him up to the hospital wing." The room was silent for a few moments longer as the patronus faded. Dumbledore sighed, standing slowly.

"We may as well talk to him." The entire procession, Headmaster, Heads of Houses, Auror, and Ministry appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher made their way down to the Hospital Wing. They arrived to find Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville waiting beside their friend. "Boys," said Dumbledore quietly. They all flinched, turning.

"Professor," said Ron.

"I'm afraid we have to talk to him Mr. Weasley. We'll try not to agitate him." Ron nodded reluctantly. The others opened their mouths to protest but Ron shushed them, leading them slightly farther away from Harry. Albus nodded at him in thanks and he led his procession to Harry's bed. Madame Pomfrey glanced at them from across the room and assured them that he should be awake in a few minutes. So they waited. Soon enough, Harry's eyes fluttered open and he squinted at the ceiling. McGonagall handed him his glasses. Putting them on his face, Harry frowned at his bedside guests. "Hello Harry."

"Hello sir. May I ask why I get such a visit?" The Auror spoke up, who was standing right beside the Headmaster.

"I am afraid I have to ask you a few questions Mr. Potter." With a sigh, Harry nodded, sitting up so that he could wrap his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knees. The Auror looked at him quite sadly. "I have a list of some of Ms. Chang's personal affects, the one's we found on her. Could you please tell me if anything is missing?" Everyone was silent as the list was read.

"My kerchief…"

"Excuse me?"

"I gave her my kerchief today; she had it when she left." The room was silent for a moment.

"Thank you Mr. Potter." Harry simply nodded and looked up at the Headmaster.

"Can I go back to the common room now?" Dumbledore nodded and the boy left, taking his friends with him. He turned to see the worried look on the Auror's face.

"What is it?"

"It might not be anything…" The Auror didn't finish the thought as he strode out of the room quickly. The teachers dispersed to take care of the students.

"Hey Draco, Theo, why weren't you guys at dinner?" They both shrugged, though Theo was the one who answered Blaise's question.

"Wasn't hungry," he muttered, his nose stuck in a book. Blaise shrugged, walking into the room, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy hot on his heels. The boys lay on their respective beds while Pansy looked at them, most reading, Draco simply staring at the ceiling while lying on his back. She went and laid down beside him, snuggling into his side.

"What are you thinking about," she asked, trailing her fingers up and down his chest. Draco shrugged, the movement barely disrupting either of them.

"Pansy," said Blaise absentmindedly, flicking through his Transfiguration book, "you're being intimate again."

"I am," she asked frowning, eyes growing wide as she sat up abruptly. "I-I didn't…"

"We know," said Goyle, who was flipping through his collection of Shakespeare. "We just thought we'd let you know." She took a deep breathe, and looked down at Draco sullenly.

"I'm sorry." Draco simply shrugged, unaffected. They all knew quite well how she did not know the difference between friendly and intimate space. As her friends, they did not hold it against her. "But seriously," she asked, "what are you thinking about?"

"Nothing in particular…"

"Hey Pans, what's your opinion on the murder situation," asked Crabbe, looking up from his book of Plato.

"It's just horrible! I wasn't really against Granger, she seemed nice enough, but I just thought that she put too much stock in her own brain. The Colin kid was just sad and Cho…well, to have her die on Potter too was kind of cruel."

"It might not be about Potter though," said Blaise. "I mean, yeah, that is a connection between all three victims, but is it _the_ connection? It could be something else. There might not _be_ a connection." Crabbe and Goyle nodded while Draco and Theo shrugged again. Blaise sighed. "We better get working on this homework." They dispersed, collecting their things before meeting again for a homework section.


	4. Chapter 4: Swarm

Chapter 4

Swarm

Fred shivered, sweat rolling down his spine. He had been walking. It hadn't been late, though few people were around. He had taken one of the lesser used staircases, one of the one's he used to pull pranks with George. George had been worried about him walking alone because everything that had been happening but Fred insisted. He loved George; just he needed a tiny bit of a break now and then, like anyone would. Now this was happening. The other student was simply walking around him at the moment, wand trained at him, and staring at the knife in his hand. Fred hadn't looked up yet; he had been advised not to.

"I suggest not moving," said a voice as a wand was pressed into his back. "Trying to take the chance to see my face, and then running, would also be frowned upon." Fred had been asked to go to his knees, which he obliged, and now he was here. The suspense was just making it worse.

"Will you hurry up already," he blurted out, still quietly, as if the entire situation was somehow personal and no one should intrude. The person paused briefly in their circling, and Fred was struck suddenly by how they seemed like a vulture, or a prowling jungle cat.

"All in good time Weasley, all in good time." A hand flashed out, blade catching a piece of skin on Fred's forehead, ripping it, causing blood to fall. Fred hissed, and had Harry been near, he might have noticed how the peculiarity in which Fred's hissing almost sounded like Parseltongue, but no one was near; there was no one there to save him. The voice hm'd, sounding strangely familiar, but Fred couldn't place it, nor did he try, focusing on the stinging on his forehead. "Take your hand away from it," the attacker snapped and Fred reluctantly lowered his hand. "Now," said the person slowly, "look at me."

"But you said not to…"

"Do it!" Fred looked up, and his eyes widened, for he recognized the face. He didn't want to believe it. Surely, _this_ was not the person murdering others. Another slash was made to his forehead. "I thought I told you not to look," the boy smiled cruelly. Fred scowled, which earned him a smack across the face, and he almost fell, not expecting the blow. "Now tell me…what is the Gryffindor password?"

"I'll never tell you anything."

"Tsk, tsk, don't speak so soon Weasley. It might be your downfall." With that, the student stamped his foot on Fred's ankle, at least spraining the area. Fred screamed. "Now, now, shush…no screaming, you hear? Don't want to wake anyone else, do we? Besides, then I might make it worse." Fred nodded vigorously, biting his bottom lip, breaking the skin there as well, making blood flow into his mouth. "Are you going to tell me the password?" Fred shook his head, eyes staring silently into the opposing orbs. His offender sighed. "Well then…" He stamped his foot down on Fred's ankle again, breaking it this time, and Fred screamed unconsciously, though he kept his mouth closed and muffled it quickly. "You did much better with the screaming this time Weasley, now, password?"

"My names Fred," he gasped through the pain. The hand flashed out again, catching skin on his neck this time, though luckily it wasn't deep.

"I don't care what your name is," hissed the knife wielder, though his expression changed quickly from the all-consuming rage to calm. "Though, the information will make this go faster…and I take that as a no." A knee went into Fred's chest this time and he grunted. The abuse continued, the killer asking, Fred refusing to answer, and the killer dealing damage. After several knees to the chest, Fred almost fell, but the killer stopped him, whispering in Fred's ear that such acts were _heavily_ frowned upon. Several more attacks later, Fred was sporting a black eye and his lip had broken open again; he could barely stay upright. His attacker was getting quite furious. "Password!" Fred shook his head and the knife cut into one cheek. "Password!" Fred shook his head again and the knife opened up the other cheek.

"Fred! Fred! Fred! FRED!" The killer hissed in alarm and looked once more into the defiant eyes of his victim. Stabbing the knife deeply into Fred's chest and pulling it out, he sighed slightly. He was pushed aside quickly as George knelt beside his brother. Fred smiled at his brother, drops of blood sliding down his face from gravity as he fell forward. George cradled him to his chest.

"Should've," Fred coughed, "should've listened to you about the walk. Finish that..." He dissolved into coughing. A tear rolled down George's face.

"It'll be okay, Fred. It will be okay? Stay with me Fred, stay with me Fred," but Fred's eyes were already starting to close as George spoke, and no matter how hard either of them tried, they couldn't get them to stay open. George looked up, looking for the killer, intent upon wreaking his vengeance. He never got it. A hand grabbed his hair roughly, pulling his hair back, and a blade slid across his throat. He fell forward onto his twin and was dead in seconds. Yelling could be heard, people awoken by the sound of George's earlier cries. Kneeling quickly, the killer searched the boys' pockets, taking something from both of them; a string from an Extendable Ear for Fred and a half-eaten Puking Pastille from George. He ran. He headed toward the dungeons, sure that no one would spot him immediately there considering his dark clothing but he heard voices approaching. He ducked into a side hall and came face to face with Theodore Nott.

"Hey, what are you…" Theo didn't get to finish as he was pushed roughly against a wall. The attackers face was obscured in shadow, though Theo stared at the place where a head would be. "Come on man, I was just trying to walk…" Then Theo noticed the knife and the blood on it, and the blood that could be seen ever so faintly on the student's clothing. "What…" The killer harrumphed as he used his knife to slash open Theo's neck, thoroughly covering himself in blood. He let the body drop to the floor, stooping slightly to retrieve the dead boy's purity ring from his finger. With a quick glance around, he fled quickly. No one suspected. No one came to get him from his room. For now, he was safe.


End file.
